


Ad Astra Per Aspera

by daringlybelieving



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, The Five, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daringlybelieving/pseuds/daringlybelieving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was sure that the pain that she had experienced would seem like nothing compared to what he was enduring right at that very moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She was sure that the pain that she had experienced would seem like nothing compared to what he was enduring right at that very moment. The memory of her blood boiling in her veins was long forgotten as she watched Nikola writhing and thrashing on the floor, his mouth gaping in a silent scream of pure agony as James and Nigel held him down, and there was nothing she could do but watch the horrific tableau that was playing out before her.

The moment his body had stiffened and the colour had leached from his already fair skin she had wanted to undo time, to take back what she had done to cause his suffering. After all, potentially putting oneself in harms way was one thing, but doing the same with the lives of ones friends was quite another. They had no idea what they had been getting themselves into. 

She felt John’s hand close loosely over her shoulder, offering silent support and comfort as they waited for the heaving convulsions that were running through Nikola’s limbs in waves to cease. She took a deep shuddering breath and fiercely blinked back the tears that were threatening to escape from the barricades of her eyelashes; she would not be seen as weak.

She flinched at the strangled cry the escaped Nikola’s lips as he arched against the firm grips of Nigel and James. She could see the strain of keeping him down in the tightly wound muscles of their arms even through the material of their clothing. She felt physically sick at the sight of her friend in so much pain; years ago they had made a mutual agreement to protect each other.

Nikola gave one last shuddering gasp and slumped forward in the chair, held upright only by the firm grips of Nigel and James. Helen rushed forward and helped them to gently settle him back into the chair so she could examine him. Though his skin was deathly white, when Helen rested the back of her hand against his forehead, she was shocked at the intense head that was radiating from him.

She glanced up at James who was standing close enough to be of assistance if she needed it, but not so much to be a hindrance. When she looked at him, her eyes pleading, he stepped forward and pressed two fingers firmly against Nikola’s jugular.

“His pulse is positively racing.” He said after a moment, shaking his head and gently prying Nikola’s eyes open to see almost fully dilated pupils. “I believe this would be a wonderful time to inform your father of our little experiment.” 

Helen bit her lower lip at the thought of telling her father the specifics of the experiment they had been conducting in the basement of the Magnus household but nodded her head and gestured for Nigel and John to help James carry Nikola’s unconscious body to the door.

Helen walked ahead of the small group, unlocking doors and leading the way through the darkened passages of the basement to the winding stone staircase. She made her way to the stop of the stairs and unlocked the door at the top while she waited for the others to catch up. Nigel had relinquished his hold on the young Serbian and moved to the back of the group to allow John and James to manoeuvre more easily up the staircase.

Helen pushed the heavy wooden door open and held it while Nigel ushered John and James over the threshold and into the main house.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on here?” the booming voice made Helen jump and release her on the door, allowing it to slam into Nigel’s shoulder.

“Father!” her eyes widened with surprise as Gregory Magnus strode purposefully across the foyer towards his daughter and her colleagues. She lowered her eyes when he fixed her with a hard gaze.

“Helen, gentlemen,” he flicked his eyes over to the unconscious Serbian, assessing him in one coolly executed sweep, “Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

Helen winced, “There’s been a complication.”

Gregory arched an eyebrow and cast another quick look at Nikola, “That much seems apparent.” He commented dryly. He sighed at Helen’s guilty expression and turned to the two men who were finding it increasingly difficult to keep Nikola in their grasps, “Lets get him settled in one of the guest rooms then, shall we?”

John suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and shifted his grasp on Nikola’s ankles, “Yes, lets.” James smirked at the ever-present condescending tone to John’s voice and started walking towards the stairs, forcing John to walk backwards.

Helen gave James a small thankful smile as he passed her and her father. Gregory wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them lightly, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, hm?”

Helen took at deep, calming breath as her father gently steered her in the direction of the guest bedrooms, “We have been experimenting with the Source Blood,” she began cautiously, noting the way her father’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly on her shoulder. She hurried on, “Investigating its properties, developing hypotheses; you have to understand, Father, this could very well lead us to truly understanding one of the greatest races of Abnormals ever to walk the Earth.” She finished emphatically.

Gregory narrowed his eyes and stared suspiciously at his daughter, “Helen, what did you do?” They paused outside the guest room and watched as John and James settled Nikola onto the bed. Nigel squeezed past Helen with an apologetic smile and went down the hall to the bathroom.

Helen waited until Nigel was out of sight and then reached around her father to pull the bedroom door closed, “We developed a serum,” she shuffled uncomfortably under Gregory’s intense gaze. “And injected it.” She stated quietly, avoiding looking directly at her father as she did.

She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the floor as she waited for her father to begin an angry tirade, she could almost imagine what he would say to her. When they had acquired the Source Blood during an expedition to the Indies, one of Helen’s firsts, her father had entrusted it to her to study as a way to initiate her to the world of researching Abnormals, of course Helen was fairly certain he had not expected this as the outcome of his daughter’s experimentations.

When an angry tirade didn’t come, Helen risked a glance at her father and saw something in his eyes that made her heart clench and tears rise to her sea-blue eyes.

Disappointment.

Her lower lip started to tremble at the realisation that her father had never been disappointed with her before, frustrated, angry yes, but far from disappointed of his strong-willed offspring.

He caught her chin with the tips of his fingers when she went to turn away from him and gently made her look him in the eye. “Did you take the serum, Helen?” he asked softly.

Helen blinked hard, trying to force back the tears and nodded shakily, “We all did.” Gregory sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, tilting her head to inspect her face from different angles.

“I’m fine, Father, we all are, there was some pain to begin with but when nothing else happened we felt it safe to continue,” she paused and looked at the closed door, behind which she knew Nikola was unconscious, “Nikola had a much more severe reaction than any of us anticipated.” She finished quietly.

She was startled to feel Gregory gently brush away a tear that had fallen to her cheek, she had realised she was crying. “We’ll make this right.” Gregory assured her. Helen nodded and wiped away the rest of her tears with quick swipes. Gregory smiled at her sadly and opened the bedroom door, holding it open for this daughter.

A quick glance around the room showed Nikola propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed that dominated the room. John was leaning casually against the far wall staring out of the large window. James had his fingers pressed against Nikola’s pulse point, his face the picture of concentration; he barely glanced up when Helen and Gregory entered the room.

“Excellent timing, it seems our friend has taken another turn.” He commented gravely. Helen rushed to his side, only noticing as she neared that Nikola was shaking violently again and sweat beaded his forehead. “Where on Earth is Nigel with that cloth?”

“Here!” Nigel appeared in the doorway quickly made his way to James, handing him a damp cloth when he reached him. James took it from him and laid it across Nikola’s forehead.

“He’s feverish.” Helen muttered. James hummed in agreement and pulled the heavy duvet that was covering Nikola away from him. Helen frowned when he moved to start undoing the buttons of Nikola’s shirt, “James?”

James glanced at her, “We need to get the poor chap cool and I hardly think leaving him in damp clothing is wise.”

“You’re right of course.” Helen replied absently, brushing her fingers lightly through Nikola’s dark hair. At the sound of her father clearing his throat less than subtly, Helen blushed and backed away from Nikola’s side, “I’ll fetch another cool cloth.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the door before scurrying out of it, leaving her father and James to efficiently strip Nikola of his sweat dampened clothing.

She didn’t realise Nigel had followed her out into the hall until she felt his hand on her arm. She looked at her friend and smiled weakly at the soft, understanding expression on his face; he always seemed to understand what she was thinking and feeling.

“It’s not your fault y’know, we knew the risks.” He said kindly.

Helen bit back a sarcastic laugh and shook her head, “We had no clue what would happen, Nigel. If I hadn’t allowed my insatiable curiosity to get the better of me, none of this would be happening.” She heard the frustration in her voice and took a deep, calming breath.

“Without your ‘insatiable curiosity’, you wouldn’t be the Helen Magnus we all know and love.” Nigel gave her a quick boyish grin, “Nikola will be fine, he’s hardly just going to lay down and leave John without someone to bicker with.”

Despite herself, Helen felt her lips turn upwards in a smile; it wasn’t often that Nigel failed to make her smile, even in moments such as those, when all she wanted was for time to move in reverse to allow her to do things differently. She reached forward and squeezed his shoulder, attempting to convey her gratitude to him with the simple gesture.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door creaking open down the hall. John poked his head around the corner and frowned at the pair, “Your father needs those cloths, Helen.” Helen blinked at the brusque tone of his voice but nodded, “And a bucket if you could.”

“Of cour-” the slamming of the bedroom door cut off Helen’s reply. She looked questioningly at Nigel who shrugged and placed his hand just above the small of her back, allowing her to lead the way to the large bathroom around the corner.

Helen found more cloths and some towels while Nigel filled a basin with tepid water. “Do you think this will be alright?” he asked her hesitantly. Helen dipped a finger into the cool water and nodded.

“I’m sure that will be just fine, Nigel. Would you mind terribly taking these to my father?” she smiled thankfully when he held out his arm for her to drape the towels and cloths over. “I’ll be along shortly.” Nigel bowed his head theatrically, eliciting another small smile from Helen. While Nigel didn’t like to see his friends hurting, and would try to cheer them up in any way possible (more often than not with his quick wit and wry sense of humour), he also instinctively knew when they needed to left to themselves, if only for a few moments; something that Helen was eternally grateful for.

She waited until the sound of his footsteps faded to nothing before she emerged from the bathroom. She went over to the heavy wooden door opposite the bathroom and opened it. The servant’s corridors were rarely used; both she and her father insisted that the housekeeper Mrs. Cartwright and her assistant Esther move freely about the house and to treat it as their own. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she walked down the stone steps that led to the servant’s hall on the ground floor. She knew it would be empty at this time of day; the house cook, Mrs. Williams, would be busy in the kitchen preparing a light lunch for the house and as far as she could remember it was Mrs. Cartwright’s day off. Esther, Helen had found, tended to take this time to visit her father’s library browse the large leather-bound tomes, an activity Helen was more than happy to encourage in the young girl. It didn’t take her long to find the pail that Esther used to hold the ashes when she cleared out the fireplaces; Helen had helped the girl with her duties on more than one occasion. 

She half-ran back up the servant’s stairway and down the hall. When she reached the bedroom door she paused to catch her breath, tucking an errant curl of blonde hair behind her ear. Once she was fairly certain she had regained her outwardly calm composure, she knocked on the door and waited until she heard her father’s voice summoning her.

When Helen stepped in the room, the unmistakable odour of vomit greeted her; despite her normally strong stomach, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand and willed herself not to gag. Nigel met her just inside the doorway and relieved her of the pail, a look of concern crossing his face at the sight of her pale features.

“Is he alright?” she asked him quietly, peering over his shoulder and watching as James and her father flitted around the bed, applying cool cloths to Nikola’s forehead, neck and chest.

Nigel shrugged lightly, “He’s been better,” Helen hummed in agreement, “the poor bloke felt it was necessary to empty his stomach contents on John’s shoes a few moments ago.” Nigel said, a hint of a mischievous smirk playing on the corner of his lips. Helen directed her gaze to John, who was standing as far away from the bed as possible, a murderous glare directed at the young Serbian.

She went to stand at the foot of the bed held on tightly to one of the carved wooden posts that held up the canopy. One look at Nikola told her that he was still far from well; his skin was ashen, his eyes fluttering erratically beneath the closed lids, his breathing shallow and quick. She caught her father’s eyes and looked at him imploringly, her heart dropping when he shook his head and looked away, unable to hold her gaze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a while, despite knowing exactly where I want to go with the story, I completely lost the ability to get it written down. Thankfully I seem to have gotten over my block so hopefully chapters will be coming much more frequently.

Helen leaned forward and gently wiped a trail of broth off Nikola’s chin. His eyes rolled over to look at her for the briefest of moments before the heavy lids fell closed again. She looked down at the small bowl of broth in her hands and frowned; he had barely eaten any of it, and was seemingly eating less with each passing day. Still, she took the spoon and lifted it to his dry lips. Nikola gave barely any sign of acknowledging the feel of the edge of the spoon against his closed mouth and Helen sighed.

“Nikola, please.” She pleaded wearily. His mouth dropped obediently and allowed the cooling bland liquid to be spoon-fed to him. Helen waited for him to swallow before she ladled another spoonful, observing how the small task of swallowing became increasingly more difficult with each mouthful. Two mouthfuls later and Nikola turned his head away and groaned.

“I…can’t, H-Helen.” He stuttered, burrowing further underneath the heavy feather duvet. Helen nodded and set the bowl aside. She reached forward and pressed the hand against his forehead and was pleased to find that his temperature, while still slightly elevated, was much cooler than it had been for the two previous days.

“How do you feel, Nikola?” she asked quietly. He gave a small, barely there shrug of his shoulders but said nothing and Helen knew it would only be a few moments before he fell back into the deep slumber that seemed to be ever pulling at his consciousness. She watched him as his breathing became slow and even as he drifted off into what she was sure to be another fitful sleep. She leaned back in her chair and brushed her hands over her tired eyes, silently wishing that her friend would fight off the effects of the Source Blood sooner rather than later, she had barely left his side for the two days since they injected the serum, and she was anxious to hear the quips and half-hearted insults from her dear friend again.

A quiet knock on the closed door pulled her attention from the bed and she crossed the room to open it, not willing to pull Nikola from his sleep by calling for whomever it may have been to enter. She was not surprised to find her father on the other side, his leather medical bag in one hand and a notebook and pen in the other. Gregory smiled warmly at her and gestured for her to return to her seat as he followed her to Nikola’s bedside.

“I would just like to take some blood.” He said as he set the medical bag down at the foot of the bed and opened it, pulling out a large syringe and a tourniquet. Helen watched him silently from her chair as he readied his supplies and rolled the sleeve of Nikola’s shirt up past his elbow. She winced as the long needle pierced Nikola’s fair skin and watched with morbid fascination as the syringe began to fill with his crimson blood. When he was certain he had taken a sufficient amount to satisfy his needs, Gregory set the glass syringe aside and picked up a second.

“And you.” He glanced pointedly at Helen and removed the tourniquet from Nikola’s arm.

“Father?” Helen questioned but nevertheless pushed the already elbow-length sleeve of her dress higher up her arm so Gregory could fasten the tourniquet.

“I’m curious as to why our young Mister Tesla’s reaction was far more adverse to that of your own.” He explained.

Helen hissed at the bite of the needle against her skin and turned her face away. “There could be a thousand different reasons why Nikola’s reaction was so severe.” She mused, her eyes straying to her sleeping friend.

Gregory made a noise of agreement, “Then I will look into every single one, if only to help myself sleep better at night, to ensure that you will not fall to the same fate as your friend.” He smiled sadly at his daughter and placed his hand on her cheek. Helen leaned into his hand, showing him in her own way that she appreciated his concern. She knew her father worried for her, there had been more than one occasion when she’d found him pacing the entrance hall of the house after spending the day in the secluded basement room with her colleagues, puzzling over the properties of the Source Blood and the effect it may have on the human body. Of course he had never attempted to hamper his strong-willed daughter’s quest for knowledge, but would support her stoically from the sidelines, praying, as all fathers did, that no harm would come to her.

“Thank you, Father.” Helen responded sincerely, eliciting a small nod and a smile from Gregory as he removed his hand from her face and moved to collect the blood samples and his medical bag.

“I must begin testing these samples whilst the blood is still viable. I shall be in the laboratory if you have need of me.” He dipped his head in farewell and left the room, closing the door gently behind him and leaving Helen to her thoughts.

She relaxed into her chair and let her thoughts wander. She had word from the others since they had left her house two days ago. John had left shortly after Nikola’s vomiting episode, throwing the unconscious Serbian a dark look and claiming the need to incinerate his expensive shoes. Both Nigel and James had only left after Helen had practically forced them from the room, telling them both to get some rest and assuring them that she could handle anything that might occur during the night, with her father’s help of course. James had left her strict instructions to contact him as soon as there was any change before lifting her hand and lightly kissing her knuckles and shaking Gregory’s hand respectfully. Nigel had given Helen similar instructions and his trademark cheeky grin before trailing James out of the room. The whole exchange had left Helen feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the men she had come to call her friends, but now she couldn’t help but wonder what had become of them.

A sudden sense of panic washed over her as she pondered the whereabouts of her friends. Had something happened to them in the days since she had seen them? Had they fallen to the same fate as Nikola and were lying somewhere with no one to help them? She herself had felt briefly ill after their little experiment, however, considering Nikola’s severe condition, she had pushed all thoughts of her own health aside and focussed on his; brief bouts of light-headedness and nausea paled in comparison to Nikola’s, at the time, near comatose state.

She shook her head to clear the ridiculous thoughts from her mind. If by chance her three friends had also fallen ill it was absolutely impossible that their help would not have informed her sometime in the two days that she had not heard from them. She entertained the thought of sending a messenger to visit their houses with news of Nikola’s condition, and come back with an update on their health in return. Of course it would also be far more productive for her to go herself.

With one last quick glance over her Serbian friend, Helen rose from her seat and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She walked quickly through the house almost on autopilot, her feet steering her through the endless corridors and stairways towards her father’s laboratory. She was unsurprised to find the door was closed as it so often was, creating a barrier between her father and the outside world as he worked on whatever struck his fancy, be it an experiment of his own making or his investigations into whatever species he had recently discovered.

She tapped the door with her knuckles and waited for her father’s distinctive voice telling her to enter. When it came, she pushed the heavy door open to find Gregory Magnus leaning over a microscope, adjusting the magnification with one hand while the other drummed a rhythm on the tabletop absentmindedly.

“Father?” 

Gregory immediately paused his drumming pulled his head away from the monocular microscope. “Is everything alright, Helen?” He went to his daughter’s side and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, his eyes searching her face for a hint as to why she had chosen to visit him in his laboratory.

“Yes of course, Father.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “I was just going to make a trip into the city, I was hoping to visit with Mister Watson, Mister Griffin, and Mister Druitt, keep them apprised of Nikola’s condition.”

Gregory smiled knowingly. “And keep yourself apprised of their good health, no doubt.” The corners of Helen’s lips twitched lightly in response. “Would you mind requesting the gentlemen grace me with their presence so that I may take a blood sample from each of them to study?”

“As you wish, Father.” Gregory smiled widely at his daughter and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

“I’d like you to see something before you leave.” He moved back over to the microscope and gestured Helen forward. “What do you see?”

Helen peered into the scope and adjusted the magnification until the cells beneath it became visible. She gasped quietly. “Is that?”

“Nikola’s blood? Yes. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“It looks as though it’s mutating.” Helen mumbled absently, her focus entirely on the red blood cells before her.

Gregory nodded to himself in agreement. “That was my first thought.”

“But mutating into what?” Helen asked, looking at her father with concerned eyes.

Gregory sighed and rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck. “That I don’t know, but given the nature of your…experiment, I have a few ideas. We shall have to monitor our Mister Tesla very, _very_ closely.”

“I agree.” Helen responded. She bit her lower lip thoughtfully for a slow moment. “Father-”

“Your blood appears to be normal, Helen.” Gregory answered before her question left her lips. “For now at least. Don’t think I won’t be watching you closely too, my dear.”

Helen smiled wryly at the older man. “I would expect nothing less, Father.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I was able to sit down and write this and be even remotely productive. I'm now back in the frame of mind where writing comes naturally again and I can get stuff done without having to take ridiculous amounts of time between chapters. Thank god.

The walk to James’s modest terraced house took Helen longer than she had anticipated. She walked slowly through the streets of London, occasionally making an absent-minded greeting to those she passed, but otherwise paying no attention to where she was headed as she twisted the newest developments concerning Nikola’s health around in her mind.

She was completely thrown by what her father had shown her. In a normal human being she would have expected to see perfectly spherical red blood cells. In fact, until recently, that had also been the case with Nikola. She silently praised James and herself for their forward thinking at the beginning of group’s experiments, insisting on performing medical testing to ensure that each member was in perfect health before continuing. If she hadn’t known otherwise, she would have quickly suggested that the anomaly her father had found was nothing more than a virus. Of course, what would one call this particular affliction that currently ravaged her friend’s health? Calling it a virus seemed to be the simplest thing to do as it was in fact behaving like one, an unusually aggressive one at that, but a virus just the same. By the time Helen reached the house that James had resided in for the past year, her mind was churning over all the possible treatments that could be used in order to attempt to cure Nikola.

Helen rapped hard on the solid oak door and waited for the telltale sounds of James dropping whatever devices he was ordinarily found tinkering with outside of his studies. When no such sounds could be heard, Helen frowned and knocked again, calling James’s name as she did so. As Helen turned to leave, the door slowly opened and James groggily peered around the frame.

“Helen, what a surprise, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.” He quickly wiped his eyes and moved to hold the door open. “Come in, come in.”

Helen smiled at him and took the invitation, stepping across the threshold and removing her shawl. “I apologise for calling unannounced. My father made quite the discovery earlier today and I thought it imperative that you should know.”

James hung up her shawl and gestured for her to make her way to the sitting room. “Yes, of course, please take a seat. I was just making some tea, could I fetch you some?” Knowing Helen as he did, James disappeared into the kitchen before she could reply, returning a few moments later with two cups of hot tea. He placed one on the small table beside Helen and took a seat in the over-stuffed chair opposite her.

“Thank you.” The smile on her face faded however when she studied James’s face properly for the first time since she had entered the house and took in his ashen complexion. “James, are you alright? Are you feeling unwell?” she enquired gently, concern colouring her voice.

“Ah yes,” James waved his hand dismissively. “Just a slight headache, I’m quite alright, too much reading in poor light I would expect.” Helen gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him but allowed him to change the subject. “You were saying Gregory found something?”

“Yes he did. He was studying Nikola’s latest blood sample and found something rather peculiar.” She took a small sip of tea before continuing. “It appears that Nikola is being affected by some form of virus.”

James leaned forward in his chair and rested his hands on his knees, his interest piqued. “A virus you say? No doubt caused by our little experiment.” Helen nodded in agreement.

“That much is clear, what is not so clear, however, is what will happen to Nikola.” Helen paused and looked James directly in the eye. “It appears that this ‘virus’ is causing Nikola’s blood to mutate.”

“How very peculiar.” James hauled himself out of his chair and began to pace the room in small circuits. “Let us take an educated leap and say that this virus is vampiric in origin.” James tapped his fingers against his leg as he thought. “As we have seen the virus is transmitted through the sharing of blood, but for what reason?”

“To aid with feeding, perhaps?” Helen suggested.

James shook his head and stopped his pacing, opting instead to assume a position leaning against the fireplace. “No, no, that makes no sense. For what reason would a vampire have a need of viruses if they are to simply drain their victims of blood? I can only imagine that if a vampire were to use some form of chemical assistance when feeding it would be in the form of an anticoagulant rather than a virus.”

Helen gave a short hum of agreement. “Yes, I’m sure you are correct.”

James gazed at Helen for a long moment, though his eyes were trained on her they were not focussed, as if deep in though, as he so often was.

“What do we know of the way vampires are created?” He asked a moment later.

Helen shrugged lightly. “Not much at all, I’m afraid. Though there are several theories as to what would make a person being to thirst for blood, each of them becomes more preposterous than those before it.”

James hummed and smoothed a hand over his chin. “Consider this, Helen; the virus acts as a means of passing on the vampiric condition through some sort of metamorphosis of the victim. You yourself have said that it was causing Nikola’s blood to mutate.”

Helen sat stunned for a moment, rolling the new idea over in her mind. “I suppose it’s no less plausible than any of the other theories I’ve heard.” She paused and cocked her head to the side in thought. “I wonder if my father has had a similar theory, he did seem rather sure that Nikola, or rather his blood, was undergoing some form of metamorphosis.””

“Your father is an intelligent man, it is not often he is wrong.”

Helen smiled grimly. “Yes, and that’s what worries me.”

James chortled humourlessly. “On that, my dear, I must agree wholeheartedly.” He rubbed a hand tiredly over his brow, unable to mask the discomfort that he was obviously feeling.

“James, are you sure you’re alright? Perhaps we should take you to my father, he did wish to see you after all.” Helen pressed, rising from her seat to move to her friend’s side. James smiled indulgently as she made him turn fully towards her and pressed the back of her hand delicately against his forehead.

“Perhaps you are right, this headache has been rather persistent since our little experiment.” He looked suitable chastised when Helen glared at him and pulled her hand back with a snap.

“Good heavens, James, you of all people should know how important it is for us to keep a close watch for anything unusual, especially considering what has happened to Nikola!” 

James pushed himself away from the fireplace and placed his hands gently on Helen’s shoulders to still her tirade. “I apologise, Helen, I’ll admit it was rather foolish of me.” She raised an eyebrow coolly. “I wanted to spare you from worrying about me, Nikola’s health already weighs heavily on your mind.” Helen dipped her head at that, loose blonde tendrils falling to hide her face from him.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped around her to collect his coat and hat and her shawl from the entryway. “Come, let us go and have your father poke needles in me if that will lay some of your fears to rest.” He said jovially, holding his arm out for her to take. Helen smiled genuinely and went towards her friend, taking her shawl from his outstretched hand and then looping her other arm through his.

“You do realise my father will be even less pleased than I that you made no mention of feeling unwell, James.” Helen glanced at him out of the corner and found herself forcing back a smile at his sheepish expression.

“Yes, remind me to apologise profusely _before_ he uses the needles.” Helen giggled into the back of her hand and tightened her grip on his arm.

“I’m sorry, James, but I’m afraid you’re on your own there.” James gasped mockingly and turned to face her, putting his free hand across his heart.

“And I thought we were friends, my dear!” his wounded expression gave way to a grin that Helen couldn’t resist smiling at.

“You needn’t worry too much about my father, as it happens, he knows I’ve grown rather fond of you these past few years.” James chuckled and started to lead Helen down the cobbled streets in the direction of her house. Their friendly banter continued for the majority of the journey, only pausing when they stopped briefly to greet passing acquaintances.

They were still trading witty barbs and chuckling lightly as they passed through the doors of the Sanctuary. James helped Helen remove her shawl and draped it neatly over the side of the elegant chaise that inside the foyer. He removed his hat and held it lightly between his fingertips.

“Let’s go and find my father, shall we?” Helen said softly, placing her hand briefly on James’s upper arm before heading towards the other side of the foyer. She pulled a door open and waited for James to catch up to her, mumbling quietly under his breath about things she couldn’t hear, although she suspected it was something to do with needles and tests.

She led the way to her father’s laboratory and knocked firmly on the thick wooden door for the second time that day. This time however, a muffled _“come”_ answered the knock. James pushed the door open and held it as Helen slipped past him and into the room.

“Father, I’ve brought Mister Watson with me as you requested.” She said as she walked over to the older man to press a kiss to his cheek.

James bit back a chuckle at Helen’s formality and strode over to greet her father. “It’s good to see you again, sir.” He held out his hand for Gregory to shake. “How is Nikola today?”

“No change, I’m afraid, whether that is a good or a bad thing is yet to be seen.” Gregory gestured for James to join him at his workbench and began to set up the latest set of tests for James to look at.

“Naturally, until we know more, changes to his condition may not be entirely beneficial.” James his hand quickly over his eyes and bent forward to inspect Gregory’s notes that were strewn haphazardly across the side of the workbench that wasn’t taken up by vials and instruments.

Helen smiled to herself as the two men immediately immersed themselves in their work, all but forgetting her presence as they began formulating and comparing hypotheses on possible course that Nikola’s illness might take. Helen silently excused herself from the room, leaving the two of them to their debates.

A quick glance at the ornate grandfather clock in the foyer as she was passing through it told her that it was quickly becoming far too late for another trip into the city to visit John or Nigel, she would have to be content with knowing that James was well enough and attempt to visit her two remaining friends at a more sociable time in the morning. She resolved instead to check on Nikola’s condition for herself one last time that day before heading to bed, it had after all, been a long few days and the rest was well needed.

She paused outside the guest bedroom that her friend was occupying and listened carefully for a moment before letting herself inside. The young Serbian was fast asleep again, though Helen found that was hardly surprising given the current events. She went to stand beside him and gently pressed her fingers against his wrist. She timed his pulse for a moment before deciding that it was well within the normal range. Nikola did not make so much as a sound as she rearranged his pillows behind his head and pulled the duvet covers further up his chest in an attempt to make him more comfortable. She smiled at the peaceful expression on his face, and dared to hope that he may begin to show improvement in the coming days.


	4. Chapter 4

Helen awoke with a start, her heart beating wildly in the confines of her chest like a bird trapped in a cage. She took a slow, deep breath and wiped blindly at the thin layer of perspiration that pearled her forehead. Vague pictures of the nightmare that had startled her from sleep replayed in flashes as she closed her eyes. _The syringe, the source blood mingling with her own, tendrils of white-hot agonising pain threading its way through her veins. Nikola’s strangled screams echoing in the distance._

Her eyes flew open at the last memory. _That_ was no dream. She threw the heavy bedcovers aside and scrambled gracelessly for the door, paying no mind to the fact that her hair was in disarray and that she was dressed only in a simple nightgown. She raced down the long corridor towards the room that was currently occupied by her Serbian friend, his anguished screams gaining volume and frequency the closer she got.

The door to the guest room was already open when she arrived just moments later. She slipped inside the room to find her father and James on either side of the bed, struggling to hold the writhing Serbian still.

Helen stared at the scene in a mixture of shock and horror. She had never seen her friend behave in such a manner before, not even when they had injected the source blood serum just days before. Nikola’s screams were interjected with hissing growls and his head thrashed to and fro as he tried desperately escape the strong grips of Gregory and James.

Gregory was panting lightly from the exertion of trying to keep the flailing younger man restrained, while James was looking equally tense, his own face pale and beaded with sweat.

“Come now, Nikola, calm yourself.” James grunted as Nikola made another attempt at throwing James away from him. 

Helen dropped her gaze to Nikola and properly studied his face for the first time since she had entered the room, and she gasped at what she saw. His face was no longer that of the carefree, jovial Serbian that she well knew, but a distorted version of some horrifying creature she was unfamiliar with.

His mouth was open in a snarl, lips pulled back to expose teeth that belonged to no ordinary human, but an entirely different creature altogether. His unfocussed eyes were no long the shade of crystal blue that she had come to love in their years as friends, but had darkened to a shade of red so deep it appeared black at a glance. His skin had lost what little colour it had managed to retain after his initial reaction to the Source Blood and now seemed deathly pale in the dim light of the early morning.

Helen took a small step towards her friend, her hand outstretched and trembling visibly. “Nikola-” the Serbian’s name left her lips caught halfway between a whisper and a sob. The sound of her voice caused Gregory and James to both glance in her direction, startled by both her presence and the distress that was evident in her voice.

Their brief moment of distraction allowed Nikola to rip his arm free of James’s hold, throwing him away from the side of the bed in the process. James hit the wall behind him, his head connecting with a loud thud.

Nikola took advantage of the use of his free hand to reach across the bed and swipe wildly at Gregory as he tried to restrain the younger man. Helen flinched at the sound of her father crying out in pain as Nikola’s hand connected with Gregory’s right arm.

“Helen! Sedative! Quickly!” Gregory shouted to his daughter as James shook off the dazing effect of his impact against the wall and rejoined the attempt to keep Nikola from further hurting Gregory, or anyone else for that matter.

Helen jumped slightly at the sudden order but wasted no time in crossing the room to the tray of medical supplies that was resting on top of the ornate chest at the foot of the bed.

She hastily picked up the various glass phials that were sitting on the tray, rapidly reading the labels that were written in her father’s neat cursive, until she found the bottle labelled _ether_. She yanked the stopper from the top of the bottle and reached for a scrap of cloth. She soaked the cloth with the liquid and moved to her father’s side.

James had managed to wrestle Nikola’s flailing arm back down to the mattress while similarly Gregory was all but sitting on Nikola’s right arm in a vain attempt to keep the man from moving.

Helen pushed as close as she could to her father’s side and leaned over her friend. His black eyes snapped to her face and as she entered his field of vision, and her heart sank at the lack of recognition in his face. She bit her lower lip and forced herself to press the ether-soaked fabric over Nikola’s mouth and nose, holding it steady with both hands as Nikola continued to writhe and scream beneath her.

She choked back a sob when Nikola gave one last ditch attempt at escape before suddenly falling still, his heaving chest slowing to a steady rise and fall and his head lolling to the side beneath her hands. She pulled the cloth away and took a step away from the bed to properly examine the scene she had walked into.

Nikola’s face was no longer twisted with anger but had returned to his normal self, almost looking relaxed as the anaesthetic took a proper hold, drawing him deeper into the depths of sleep.

James rested his forearms on the mattress and dipped his head as he tried to regain control of his breathing, while Gregory was regarding the unconscious Serbian with a look of distrust and unsurety.

Helen’s gaze dropped to her father’s bicep, and to her surprise she saw that the white material of his shirt sleeve was shredded to ribbons and steadily turning red as blood oozed from the lacerations that covered the top of his arm.

“Father, you’re hurt.” Helen frowned and pushed the torn material aside so that she could inspect the wounds.

Gregory hissed at the stinging sensation that accompanied his daughter’s examination but remained still and allowed her to look unhindered.

“I’m sure it will hurt for a few days but otherwise I will be just fine, sweetheart.” Gregory reassured her, reaching with his left hand to gently cup his daughter’s cheek.

“How on earth did he _do_ this, father?” Helen gestured to the cuts on his arm before turning to regard James. “What in heaven’s name is happening to him?”

James huffed a humourless laugh and pushed himself upright. “It would appear that our theories are correct, my dear Gregory.” He picked up Nikola’s left hand and held it for Helen to see. The usually pristine fingertips were covered in fresh blood.

Helen frowned in confusion and circled the bed to stand next to James. She took Nikola’s hand in her own and inspected it closely. Everything appeared as normal, except for the blood, which she had no doubt belonged to her father.

“What theories, father? James?” she queried, setting Nikola’s hand down.

Gregory sighed heavily and wiped a hand across the scruff on his cheek. “It appears that our Mister Tesla is becoming a member of the Sanguine Vampiris.” He replied solemnly.

Helen stared at her father dumbly, waiting for him and James to break out into silly smiles and laughter at their joke. “A vampire? You can’t be serious?” she demanded, glancing up at James beside her, who dipped his head and nodded in confirmation.

“It is fast becoming the only hypothesis that makes any sense, given the evidence at hand.” James replied logically.

Helen scoffed disbelievingly at the thought of one of her closest friends becoming some unrecognisable creature. “That’s impossible.” She replied weakly, after all, _impossible_ was a word she had learned did not apply to the world her father had introduced her to all those years ago.

“I’m afraid that it does seem more and more likely that this is the explanation for Mister Tesla’s curious ailment.” Her father’s voice was grave and Helen knew then that it was a far more serious situation than any of them had been expecting.

She stared at Nikola’s peaceful face and wished once again that she had never conjured up that ridiculous experiment. At this point in time, the risks far outweighed any possible benefits.

“Helen?” James placed his hand gently on her shoulder to get her attention. She lifted her eyes to his and saw the understanding and sympathy that coloured his face. Of course he knew what she had been thinking, it was silly of her to think he wouldn’t notice her moment of self-loathing, he was, after all, one of closest friends.

“Let’s get you both cleaned up shall we?” she forced her voice to sound cheerful, a complete contradiction to how she was feeling at that moment, and stepped away from James. She walked towards her father and gestured for him to leave the room first.

She followed her father through the house to the Sanctuary’s modest medical suite. She gestured for Gregory to take a seat while she set about preparing what she would need to take care of his wounds. James entered the room as she was collecting clean bandages and iodine and went to sit beside Gregory on the bed he had chosen, ensuring that he sat on Gregory’s left side so that Helen could still have access to her father’s injured arm.

“Our Serbian is now properly restrained and sleeping well, I dare say the poor boy will be exhausted after his little outburst.” James said jovially, causing Helen to throw him a glare.

“It’s hardly a laughing matter, James.” She scolded, setting the materials she was holding down while she waited for her father to remove his ruined shirt.

“You’re quite right, but at this moment in time I would rather laugh off the fact that our dear friend just made a very bold attempt at killing us than worry myself into a stupor.” He remarked, ignoring Helen’s derisive huff.

“James, fetch me some water if you please.” She asked somewhat snippily, glancing at the blood that covered Gregory’s bicep. James nodded pushed himself off the bed, striding out of the room without a second glance.

Gregory chuckled lightly. “You asked for the water just to be rid of him, didn’t you?” Helen smirked and gently cleared the blood off his arm, careful not to jar the wounds too much.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, father.” She disposed of the cloth and picked up her father’s suturing supplies. “Do you really believe that Nikola is becoming a vampire?” she asked quietly as she carefully sutured the deepest of the cuts.

She felt rather than heard her father’s sigh. “I believe so, yes.” He winced as she tied off the suture and cut the thread. “Though nothing will be certain for a few more days, I’m afraid.”

Helen nodded in understanding and began to apply iodine to her father’s arm. She glanced at him apologetically when he hissed. “What do you expect will happen to Nikola?”

“Right now it would only be conjecture, but I believe that vampiric traits will now make themselves apparent more regularly, slowly destroying Nikola’s human self until they are completely dominant.” He replied, holding his arm out to the side so that she could wind the bandage around it.

“And that’s what this episode was?” Helen asked, tying the ends of the bandage securely.

Gregory inspected his daughter’s handiwork before pushing himself off the bed. “It would seem so.” He picked up his ruined shirt and put it to dispose of. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and make myself presentable before looking in on Mister Tesla.”

“Of course, father.” She smiled at him. “I’ll wait for James to return so I can look at his head, I’ll join you shortly.” 

Gregory stepped closer and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s temple. “We’ll make this right, sweetheart.” He gave her a brief smile before walking away. For a moment, she believed him.


End file.
